


Sweet Beginnings & Bitter Ends

by beasweetling



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alchemy, Beginnings, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/F, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Red Plague (The Arcana), Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beasweetling/pseuds/beasweetling
Summary: “I didn’t even stop to consider for one second that I wouldn’t want my memories once I got them back. I didn’t even stop to imagine a world where not knowing really would be better.”When her father uproots them and moves them to set up shop in the Vesuvia marketplace, Hosanna meets a boy and a snake that change her life forever. For better or for worse? Sometimes love is worth the wounds.Both ApprenticexAsra and ApprenticexJulian relationships will be explored. The canon of the original story will be used as the foundation, with some allowances for the new past and future being created for these characters. New tags will be added as the story progresses.





	1. Season I: Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season One: "The Early Years"  
> Prologue.

The first time I noticed the dirty boy in the ripped shirt, it was his eyes that stood out to me the most. It wasn’t the wide stare he gave Adda’s pumpkin loaves, or the furtive glances he sent in my direction as I approached him. It was the color. His eyes reminded me of the lavender hanging in Uncle Aztallan’s alchemy shop, the kind that he put in my favorite honey milk tea whenever I stayed the night. Lavender eyes and honey stained skin and milk dipped hair.

I tried to reassure him with a smile as I stepped closer, but he sank backwards into the bustling street too quickly for me to even say a word.

“Hosanna,” My father called to me from our large brick oven, “Come, let me show you how to take the loaves out and cool them properly.”

So I turned back into the stall and tried to forget about him.

 

* * *

 

The second time I saw the boy his shirt wasn’t ripped anymore, and his honey skin was clean. He was standing just outside the bakery stall again, just far enough from it to not be easily noticed as he sent a longing gaze towards the pumpkin loaves. So wrapped up in the smell of the cardamom that he didn’t realize I had approached him.

“Hello.” I spoke soft so as not to startle the boy, but he jumped anyway.

“Hello…” He nodded his head, his tone uncertain, as if he’d been shooed away from a market stall more than once.

The smile I gave him I hoped was as warm and inviting as my the cushions in front of my Uncle’s hearth. “What’s your name?”

A curl of milk white hair fell in front of his eyes and he took a moment to brush it out of his face again before answering. “Asra.”

“Would you like some pumpkin bread Asra?” I asked.

“I don’t have any money.” His expression twisted a little and I wondered if it was because he was ashamed of being poor, or if he’d had to resort to stealing at some point to feed himself, or if he just hated saying the words out loud. Perhaps it was all three.

I turned into the stall to fetch one of the loaves we’d set aside earlier, chatting as I did so, “Honestly, I’m glad you came along. I don’t know what I’d have done with these overbaked ones. We can’t sell them and it would be such a shame for them to go to waste. You’re doing us a favor really--” But when I looked around again the boy had already disappeared.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder as I stood there looking for the boy with the pumpkin loaf resting in my cupped palms. I turned my head and saw Adda towering over me, looking around as well. He must have noticed when I stopped working to talk to the newcomer.

“Why don’t you wrap that loaf up and leave it on that corner there with a note for the lad.” My father instructed, pointing to the part of the table he’d been standing closest to. “He’ll be back.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked, even as I followed his lead and wrapped the bread up in parchment.

Adda smiled through his beard and ruffled my hair. “He’ll be back.” Then he turned back to the ovens.

I finished securing the wrapping around the pumpkin loaf and took a piece of the thin drawing charcoal my Uncle had given to me out of my bag, using it to write, in very careful letters, “Asra”. It struck me then that perhaps this boy didn’t know how to read. He looked to be only a year or so older than I, but the only reason I knew how to read and write was because my Aunt Aurele had insisted I learn. I wasn’t so sure this boy had a family that would have insisted on such things. My mind spun trying to think of a different way to let him know that it was for him, and after a few moments it came to me and I got to work with a smile.

 

* * *

 

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Even though he’d barely spoken to me previously, I recognized his voice the instant I heard it behind me.  I heard the crinkle of parchment as he picked up the wrapped pumpkin loaf.

My smile couldn’t be contained as I turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Asra held up the loaf, showing me the top of it and the sketch I’d made of his face next to where I’d written his name. “This. Is this supposed to be me?” He looked amused.

“Of course it is.”

“It’s not very good.”

My temper flared a little bit but I contained it, crossing my arms and pursing my lips. “Well you knew it was you so it was good enough to get the point across.”

He laughed then, and his laugh made my defensiveness melt away into nothing. It was only there for a moment however, and then his walls came back up. “I told you though, I don’t have any money… and I don’t do charity.” He set the loaf back on the table.

“It’s not charity, it’s overbaked. If you stuck around for longer than a few seconds you’d have heard me say it would just get tossed anyway.” I raised an eyebrow at him, keeping anything even akin to pity or sweetness or empathy off of my face so he would be fooled into taking it.

A flush colored his cheeks and he blinked almost owlishly. “Oh… I… Yes I suppose if that’s the case…” He picked the package up again and nodded, “Ah… thank you....” There was a pause as he tried to remember if I’d told him my name or not yet.

“My name is Hosanna.”

“Thank you…” His smile reached his eyes this time “... Hosanna.”

 


	2. Season I: Episode One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season One: “The Early Years”  
> Episode One

A pebble landing at my feet makes me pause from retrieving the finished pumpkin loaves from the oven and glance around. Another stone strikes the brick patio near Adda and this time I catch a pretty good idea of where it came from. A little tuft of shock white hair is sticking out from the stairs leading to the courtyard and I giggle. I set my hot cloths down on the wooden table in front of our stall and run to the wall, peeking my head around the corner just as Asra is making another pebble float into the air.

It becomes instantly obvious he wasn’t expecting me yet, as his eyes widen and he loses his balance. I wince in sympathy, waiting for the sound of him hitting the cobblestones, but it doesn’t come and as I look back up I see Muriel holding him by the back of his shirt. The older boy looks calm and unemotional, as always, but when I smile widely at him he smirks back.

With his concentration broken, the stone starts to fall from the air and I put my hand beneath it, catching it easily.

“I thought you weren’t coming over until the parade.” I remark, tossing the pebble from one hand to another as Muriel puts Asra back on his feet again.

He shrugs, grabbing my hand and pulling me back through the market to the baker’s stall that my father owns. “We were bored. You’ve been busy all day.”

“Well that’s because-”

“Hosanna!”

I get cut short as we reach the stall and Adda turns from the oven, looking at me sternly and holding some slightly over baked loaves of pumpkin bread. He sets them on the table in front of us and shakes his head. “My little song, you never leave the bread unattended. Now it is not good to sell.”

“ Soleyu, Adda.” I hang my head.

“It was my fault.” Asra is right next to me, also hanging his head. His fingers work their way between mine. “I distracted her.”

Adda looks between Asra and I and then up at Muriel where he slinks into the bakery stall behind us. “Well, what’s done is done. Since I can’t sell this bread, I suppose I’ll have to find someone willing to take it off my hands.” He holds a loaf out to both boys, who take them eagerly.

Muriel bows his head in silent thanks and takes a bite out of his portion.

“Danske!” Asra chirps his enthusiasm around a mouthful of pumpkin colored crumbs.

“You’re welcome.” My father laughs at Asra’s expression, lifting a hand to ruffle his white blonde curls. He could never stay upset at anyone for long. “Hosanna, finish sweeping the stall and then you all can go get ready to watch the parade.” 

I pick up the broom to finish my work, but Asra puts a hand on my arm to stop me and smiles. 

He looks back at Adda and raises a finger to his lips to hush the question he can probably see coming. Then Asra stirs his other hand through the air, making all the dust and flour crumbs and rubbish swirl up into a miniature cloud and float out of the stall before settling in the street. 

“Asra, I don’t have to be looking at you to know what you’re doing.” Adda says from the direction of the ovens.

Asra sends me a mischievous glance, then suddenly there’s warm fingers between mine and his face is inches away, his eyes sparkling and his smile magnificent. “Run!” 

I can hear Muriel behind us as Asra pulls me from the stall and we race through the crowded market. My mouth tastes like cinnamon sugar and it warms me up inside, Asra’s magic clearing our path until we finally pour from the sea of people into an empty alleyway near the alchemy shop. 

Our shoulders shake from breathless laughter and I see even Muriel smiling a little out of the corner of my eye. I know better than to call attention to the curve of his lips or it may fade from a rare occurence to nonexistent, however happy it always makes me to see it. I know enough to keep that happiness to myself.  

“Where should we watch the parade from?” I ask, my hand still in Asra’s as we meander further down the alley and onto a side street. 

“It’s a surprise, but don’t worry…” Asra grins at me as he adjusts his long scarf and I see Faust sleeping in a fold of it “... I made sure we’ll have the best view.” 

I look back at Muriel. He just nods in agreement. “It is.” 

“Okay then.” 

“You don’t trust me until Muriel says it’s okay?” Asra feigns hurt, pressing his other hand to his chest as if he’s in pain. 

“Nope.” I tease. 

He laughs, his head thrown back. “Fair enough.” 

We both know I would trust him with my life.

 

* * *

 

“They look so young.” I remark as the parade passes by beneath us. The acacia tree Asra found for us to watch the procession in is tall and sturdy, and with some help from Muriel we have been comfortably situated in it’s branches for a while now. 

“They are young.” Muriel is below us leaning against the trunk. Even at fifteen years old he’s taller than many adults. At least tall enough that he can see beyond the crowd without too much trouble. 

“Well but… I always assumed when people got married they started to look older I guess.”

Asra leans against one of the twisted acacia branches. “They’ve been married for less than a day.” 

“I know.” I try not to sound defensive. “Don’t you think though… that Lady Nadia looked a little… I don’t know. Scared?” 

Big violet eyes search my face. “I felt that. She’s nervous. It is a big change though, getting married.” 

“Especially to that jerk.” 

“Muriel.” 

“He is.”

Asra and I look at each other. From what we’ve heard at least, we can’t deny the fact that the Lord Lucio doesn’t sound pleasant.

“You would have been better.” I remark, trying to make my comment seem as off hand as possible. 

White curls bounce around his face as Asra’s head shoots up and he grins at me knowingly. 

Muriel says at the same time, “Of course I would have, ANYONE would have--” 

Asra hides his laughter behind his hands, lavender eyes sparkling at me as I purse my lips and pretend I don’t notice the sudden flush to Muriel’s cheeks. 

When Muriel finally glares up at us in the tree his blush is barely noticeable. “Don’t even pretend like either of you are old enough to understand love.”

“I’m old enough!” Asra responds, his voice defensive. His eyes flick over to me and then back to his best friend with determination. “I’m almost ten, I know what love is.” 

Is he… no. Asra doesn’t blush. I shake the thought away. 

“Describe it to me then.” 

“Muriel stop teasing him, we’re missing the parade.”

“Love is…” Asra’s face scrunches up as he thinks, not looking at either of us now, “I think love is…”

“Love is when another person warms you up on the inside. Like when you look at them and you feel like you’re sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold night. I think that’s what love is.” I interrupt, turning my eyes back to the procession beneath us. 

There’s a pause and for a second all I hear is the chatter of the crowd and the music from the parade before Asra’s soft response comes from beside me. He probably believes I can’t hear him, due to the noise all around us and how quietly he speaks. He doesn’t realize that his voice is a kind of home to me. I’d be able to pick it out from anywhere, no matter how loud.  

“Yeah… that sounds right.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Season I: Episode Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season One: “The Early Years”  
> Episode Two

“The fireworks! They’ve started!” I squeal in delight after the first distant boom and flash of rainbow light. I grab Asra’s hand as I run towards the back alley that leads to my Aunt and Uncle’s Alchemy shop.

He laughs as he follows, easily matching my stride and almost overtaking me a few times. Muriel is a few steps behind us as always.

Aunt Aurele already has the door open for us and a big smile waiting as we leap inside and go sprinting up to the second floor where there is a ladder leading up to the roof. My uncle barely looks up from the kitchen table where he’s mixing together some sort of potion.

We reach the roof just as the seventh firework goes off. It shoots a fountain of pink and red sparks across the inky black sky and we watch in breathless wonder. Muriel finds a cushion to rest on as he stares on in silence and we join him after a few moments. The clouds have gotten thicker and darker, and I can almost taste rain on the tip of my tongue whenever I take a breath. I turn to mention this to Asra, but another firework swallows my words even as I utter them.

A flash of green and blue lights up his face; a face already alight with a huge silly smile of amazement as he watches the show. Even Muriel seems entranced by the sight of the fireworks. I wonder if this is the first time either of them has ever witnessed such a thing.

Uncle Aztallan always made sparklers for my birthday every year. He would create them himself, mixing colors and powders and sometimes even letting me help. We would go to a shore further outside the city to light them off and though they never went very high, they were always special. Fireworks were nothing new to me, though ones on this grand of a scale were rare.

However… I look back at the boys. We had only become friends a year ago, and they hadn’t been able to make it to my last birthday. The orphan house Muriel had been placed in wouldn’t have money for treats like fireworks, and Asra's parents were always busy. Palace celebrations hadn’t included such extravagance for ages now since there’d been no recent marriages to pair them with.

I squeeze Asra’s hand tighter, and when I look up at him he’s looking at me with the same goofy grin. He squeezes my hand back and I smile as we both turn to watch the sky light up again.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the fireworks show rain sends us indoors. The three of us sit in the doorway of the shop and watch the rain hit the street as Aunt Aurele brews some honey milk tea. She comes over to us and hands out steaming mugs of it when it’s done and her smile is warmer than the ceramic in our hands. “Why don’t you find something fun to do while you wait for your father to come get you. I have a feeling Halstead won’t be here for a bit.”

Before she’s even finished her sentence Asra is scrambling up and into the shop. We all watch him as he sprints into Uncle Aztallan’s study and reappears moments later with a large manuscript tucked into his arms.

“Really?” I ask as he hands me a familiar looking book. “ _Duchess of the Immortals_? We’ve read through this six times already.” Muriel perks up when I mention the title of the book. I try to ignore how excited they both obviously are.

Asra opens his eyes wider and looks up at me with the same sad expression of a puppy that was just tossed out into the rain. The very same rain that is now pelting the stones a few feet away.

A smile threatens my lips and my fingers are already flipping open the cover. I can never say no to Asra. Hopefully I’ll never have to. 


	4. Season I: Episode Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season One: “The Early Years”  
> Episode Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit to timeline: Chapter two has been altered so that Asra's parents are still present and in Vesuvia at the point in the story.

“Won’t your parents be wondering where you are?” I ask as we pad down the forest trail in our bare feet, a huge basket hoisted between us.

Asra shakes his head, “They’re busy making something for the Count. They said it was important and they get really focused, they probably don’t even notice I’m gone.”

I drop my side of the basket and peer at him in suspicion. “You… did tell them that you were coming with me right?”

With a cheeky grin as his only response, Asra takes my side of the basket as well and just continues on down the trail with it.  After a few meters he turns and notices that I’m not following him and sighs at me, “If you insist on being stubborn I’ll go have all the fun without you.”

“You don’t even know where you’re going! I was the one who found it!” I call, crossing my arms defiantly.

“Well then I guess you’ll have to come along if you don’t want me to get lost and eaten by a wild bear.” He says as he turns away again. He knows me too well, and after a few moments of watching his retreating form I’m chasing after him again and taking my side of the basket back.

“Only so you don’t get lost.” I make sure to inform him, but I know he’ll be able to tell my heart isn’t in my chiding.

Asra has never been anything but respectful of my independence however and just replies with a smile and a “Oh I know.”

 

* * *

 

“So, where did you find it exactly? Nevivon?” Asra asks as he looks around, teasing. “It feels like we’ve been walking forever.”

“We’re almost there, I think.” I say, “Besides, I didn’t technically find it. Muriel did. Or at least, he thought he saw it and told me about it and here we are now.”

Asra starts laughing and has to pause for a moment to catch his breath. “Are you saying that we walked all the way from the city halfway through the forest lugging this basket around and it might not actually exist?”

I purse my lips to keep from laughing as well. Our trek through the forest sounds silly when he puts it like that. “It’s an adventure.”

He’s still chuckling, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes as he shakes his head, “This is why I love you.”

The world slows to a blinding halt.

My breath catches and I turn to look at him more fully, watching as his eyes widen and a blush spreads across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t quite look at me once he realizes he spoke out loud, just glancing at me every few seconds with bashful lavender eyes.

“You know I just--”

“Asra, did you--”

We both stutter into silence and remain quiet for a moment. I send an encouraging look in Asra’s direction to prompt him into saying what he was about to first and his expression morphs from excitement to anxiety to something I can’t quite place.

“Hosanna…”

I try to focus on what he’s saying, but my eyes have moved past him ever so slightly and I break his concentration by pointing and shouting, “Ah! There it is!”

He starts and turns around to follow my motion, and a massive smile lights up his face. “Now THAT was worth the hike.”

Just beyond us, in almost the exact location Muriel had described, is a sunlit grove with the biggest mulberry tree either of us have ever seen growing right in the middle of it. We look at each other and I see my own wide-eyed delight mirrored in his face.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think if we bring home enough mulberries your father will make us a pie?” Asra asks as he looks over at me, eager fingers plucking berries as he talks.

He had used his magic to bring the branches down far enough for us to reach them and I’m starting to wonder if the tree itself is magical as well. It almost felt like the branches were moving on their own for a second, reaching toward us in delight of our company. Only about half of the berries we’ve picked so far have ended up in the basket, the other half curbing our appetites.

I start laughing as he talks, doubling over and pointing at his mouth, “Your tongue is purple!”

“Wait, really? Show me yours!”

I stick my tongue out at him and he starts laughing as well. There’s dark magenta juice staining our fingers, our tongues, and our clothes but nothing really seems to matter in this moment. There’s just Asra and I in the entire world and it’s perfect. For those long hours playing in the mulberry grove everything is perfect.

 

* * *

 

“Hosanna… Hosanna!”

“Wait! come back!” I wake up with a jolt, almost hitting Asra in the face with my arm.

He ducks easily and I can hear the snorts of laughter that he tries to muffle behind his sleeve. “What in the Arcana were you dreaming about?”

I shush him, the image of an underground lake still vivid in my mind. It doesn’t feel like a memory from a dream. I sit up and peer into the far above branches of the mulberry tree. We’d fallen asleep on a thick carpet of soft grass between two of its massive roots. Tentatively, I reach out and touch the smooth wood of one of the roots. As I do I get the same feeling of magic and water underneath us. Somehow it feels like home.

Asra isn’t laughing anymore. Now he’s watching me and when I meet his eyes he tilts his head a little. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong… do you think there’s a cave anywhere around here?” I ask as I try reaching out with my magic. The roots of the tree are leading away from the grove, towards a darker side of the woods I can’t quite see through.

Normally Asra would be interested in going on a spontaneous adventure with me, but right now his energy feels hesitant and drawn in the opposite direction. “We should start heading back. Muriel warned us about staying in the forest after dark, and it will take us longer to walk with a full basket.”

The mulberry tree tickles the edges of my thoughts, drawing my attention back to the path it wants me to travel. Taking my hand away from it’s bark feels like a betrayal. I shake the feeling from my mind and smile at Asra, going and taking my side of the basket. “Okay. Let’s go.”

 


	5. Season I: Episode Four

“Can you see?” Muriel asks as I perch atop his shoulders. 

I wobble a little, but he moves with me to keep me steady. Once I find my balance I peek over the wall again. The stones of the wall are smooth and hard to find purchase on so I can only pull myself up enough to just barely glance over it’s depth to the gardens. “She’s not there right now.” 

“She isn’t?” He sounds disappointed. 

“No, sorry… oh wait! I see Chandra!” I point up towards the cream winged owl and as I do so lean back too far, sending both Muriel and I falling backwards into a heap. 

“Ouch…” I groan, my head pounding and my legs all tangled up in my sash. I glance over as Muriel lifts himself to a half kneeling position, massaging his neck as he does so. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head, brushing away my apology as he gets to his feet and looks me over. With surprising deftness he extricates my legs from my sash, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah… ah!” I point up, smiling. He follows my index finger and I can feel him relax. 

Chandra is perched above us now, cooing and preening her feathers. When she sees that we notice her she drops a piece of parchment from one delicate and dangerous looking talon, then flies away. 

Muriel reaches up and catches the note easily. He turns it over in his hands and examines the delicate loopy script that I recognize instantly as Nadia’s. I can’t read what it says at the angle he’s holding it, especially since I only barely come up to his chest anyway. Even on my tiptoes I can’t see… but I can see Muriel smiling. “Well? What does it say?” 

He doesn’t reply before just walking off along the edge of the wall, in the opposite direction of the road that leads up to the palace gate. 

I cross my arms, looking back up at the wall that Nadia’s owl just vacated, then back at the road where I’m sure another patrol will start soon. Finally I sigh and go running after him, my hair flying behind me and the taste of pineapple in my mouth as I move my fingers and the wind shifts to push playfully at my back and move me quicker along the wall. If Uncle Aztallan knew I was using spell work outside of his watchful gaze already he’d have a fit. 

Muriel lets out a resigned huff as I jump the last few feet and the wind pushes me up to  land on his back, but despite his apparent displeasure his arms come around out of instinct to hold me there as he continues to walk. I wrap my arms around his neck and grin, and even as I do, I know he’s smiling as well. 

“So, what did it say?” I ask again.

He glances back at me, “There’s a door in the wall along this side. A gate. She said she would wait there for us.” 

Sure enough, after a few minutes of walking, a large ironwork gate comes into view, and Nadia’s smiling face is just beyond it. A wave of relief hits me like a ton of bricks and I scramble off of Muriel’s shoulders to race to the gate. “Lady Nadia!” 

“Hosanna!” Her slender fingers worked their way through the bars of the gate and she held my hands in hers, her voice bright and tender as always. “I’m so glad to see you! You didn’t come with your uncle to set up the fireworks at the celebration. I had been hoping to see you there.” 

I grin at her even as I apologize, “I’m sorry, my father needed help and I couldn’t come with. Uncle Aztallan says that he’ll be coming back to do something for a birthday party? I’ll make sure I’m able to come with him then.” 

“I would love that.” It’s impossible to not feel like the most important person in the world when Nadia Satrinava looks at you. Then her attention shifts to Muriel, who is still standing a few feet behind me. “Hello Muriel.” 

Muriel takes a few steps forward. “My lady.” He’s stepping from one foot to the other, his hands twisting in front of him like he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

“How have you been? How are Madam Constance and all of the children?” 

“They miss having you visit every week.” 

Nadia sighs and nods, “I miss it as well. I will ask about fitting it back into my duties now.” 

I look up at her, “Do you have a lot of those? Now that you’re a Countess?” 

She just smiles, “Nothing too stressful. Lucio enjoys doing most of the court appointments and matters of state and diplomacy. Honestly sometimes I feel like my parents spent far too much on my education for me to simply be a decoration.” 

A sharp breath from Muriel draws both of our attentions back to him. “You could never be only decorative.” He says, his tone almost reverent. 

I look back at Nadia just in time to see her hide a blush behind a delicately embroidered sleeve. She nods her thanks at Muriel once she’s composed herself again, but then they just keep looking at each other and I start feeling like I’m intruding. 

_ When did they get so close to each other?  _ Suddenly I’m finding myself grateful that there’s a gate in between them. 

Chandra suddenly landing on the top of the gate and hooting urgently makes all three of us jump. “Ah!” Nadia looks back through the garden towards the palace. “I must go, now that I’m Countess it seems I can never go anywhere by myself.” She turns and reaches out a hand to each of us, “Promise me you will come visit when Aztallan comes again. And promise you will also tell Asra to join you as well. Farewell, till we meet again.” 

She squeezes our hands before majestically sweeping back towards the palace, and I pretend not to notice how her hand lingers on Muriel’s before she finally moves away. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are like warm bubble baths, and comments are like candied orange slices - they give me life (ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ✿)  
> I'm not dead, chapters will still be coming, slowly but surely! Subscribe to be updated when they arrive!


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